


Be Brave

by 17daysgreys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Finding Your Way Home, Kidnapping, Marriage, Pregnancy, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17daysgreys/pseuds/17daysgreys
Summary: Arya Stark is heading to Bravos for University and she's over the moon, especially when her best friend Gendry Waters doesn't have her same affections. While there, she joins a new club and gets pulled into a whirlwind of adventures. Will she be safe, will she find her way home, and most importantly will she ever be Arya Stark again?





	Be Brave

“Arya, come on, we need to go,” Catelyn Stark, her mother, called from downstairs. Today Arya Stark was leaving to start University in Braavos and she couldn’t be more excited. The beaches, the canals, and not to mention the no Gendry Waters. The Stark family had moved to King’s Landing three years ago where she met him when he was a senior at King’s Landing Prep School, they became best friends and when she kissed him last night because the stupid bull moved his face within inches of hers he had pushed her away and said they couldn’t do this then ran.

“Coming mom,” she yelled back taking one last look of her room. It was littered with photos of her and Gendry and their friends Hotpie, Lommy, and Willow. She put her long, dark brown hair into a messy bun, pulled on a quick Winterfell Wolves sweatshirt and shut the door.

The drive to the airport had been relatively painless, there wasn’t a lot of traffic at 1:00 p.m.

“I love you,” Catelyn said, “Call me every day.”

“I will, mom.”

“You said goodbye to your siblings and father, right?”

“Yes,” she groaned. They had thrown her a surprise party last night and she was able to say her final goodbyes then. Annoyingly they started a group chat and insisted she participate at least once a day, even though she was going to be twelve hours ahead.

“He would’ve been here,” Catelyn reasoned, “But Robert needed him today.”

“Mom,” Arya said, “It’s fine. He’ll only be a phone call away.”

“I love you,” Catelyn said with tears in her eyes. She wasn’t a stranger to sending her children off to college, but they had all gone to college within thirty minutes of home, now Arya was on a ten-hour flight away.

“You said that.”

“Just wanted you to hear it again.”

“I love you too mom, I’ll be home for Christmas.”

Arya settled into her dorm okay and was waiting for her new roommate, a girl from Mereen called ‘The Waif’, Arya wouldn’t be lying if she didn’t say she was curious as to who this girl was and why she never gave her real name.

Suddenly a girl with the dourest look on her face entered the room, her blonde hair cut in a short bob and her green eyes peered into Arya’s grey ones.

“So, you’re my new roommate.”

“Guess so,” Arya smiled getting up to greet the girl, “I’m Arya, Arya Stark.”

“Arya Stark,” the girl said with a cunning tone, “Nice to meet you.”

“So,” Arya could sense the tension in the room, “I took the bedroom on the left, but if you want it I’ll gladly move my stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t stay here much.”

“You don’t?”

“Well, I travel a lot.”

“You’re a freshman, too right?”

“But I’m a part of a club, the Faceless Men.”

“What is that?”

“It’s a club where we learn to fight, act, change ourselves. It’s very exclusive.”

“Change yourselves, change yourselves how?”

“We forget who we are, there’s a— “

“A what?”

“Well I can’t tell you, you’re not in the club.”

“Well take me to the next meeting.”

“This isn’t fight club,” the Waif rolled her eyes, “You have to prove you want to even be considered for a meeting.”

“Okay,” Arya breathed, “Well then how do I prove it?”

“Give up being Arya Stark.”

Arya thought for a moment, she loved being Arya Stark. She loved her family, her parents were always incredibly supportive of her fencing and love for economics, her brothers were funny and loud and creative, even her elder sister had softened with her. But then, Arya Stark was the girl who was rejected by the boy she fell in love with and for some reason that hurt, at this moment, out shone everything else.

“What do I need to do?”

The Waif already had a bag of hair dye, scissors, makeup, and new clothes.

“You change your entire identity and you give me your phone.”

“My phone?”

“No contact with anyone from your old-life, not even your parents.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Is this a club or is this a cult?”

“Don’t you want to find out.”

Arya could sense that this was a terrible idea, but something, something told her to try. She could always leave.

“I do.”

“Now sit,” her roommate commanded.

She pulled out Arya’s hair from its messy bun and brushed it. It had gotten so long it reached the top of her butt. She wasn’t in love with her hair by any means, but she never cut it because it wasn’t common to do in Westeros. Usually she wore it in a messy bun and that was it. All of a sudden, she heard a chop and almost all of her hair was on the ground.

“What, what did you do?” She screeched, as she felt her hair, only reaching the tops of her shoulders now.”

“Arya Stark is no more.”

The girl continued cutting, until Arya’s hair reached just a little past her ears in a cute bob with some shorter pieces at the front and she cut her thick bangs. Then she bleached Arya’s dark brown hair a few times and dyed it a light lilac color. The girl then pierced Arya’s nose and her cartilage.

“Ow,” Arya yelled, “Give me some warning.”

“Do you want a warning for what’s happening next?”

“Preferably, yes,” Arya huffed as she tucked her incredibly short hair behind her ear. To say it felt weird was an understatement, it wouldn’t even fit into a pony-tail now.

She resigned to putting her hair in a half-up-half-down style, letting the longest pieces that only grazed the nape of her neck down.

“Tattoos.”

“Excuse me?”

The Waif rolled up her sleeves, revealing tons of small designs, some had texts on them, some were images of flowers and animals.

“Then the branding.”

“I don’t want, I don’t think so.”

But before Arya could protest, her eyes began to shutter close.

“It’s alright, Arya Stark, it’s not your choice to make.”

The Waif had taken Arya to an abandoned theatre in the heart of Braavos. It had Black and White doors on the outside and the inside was supported by columns with faces on it.

“Did you bring her?” a mysterious man asked.

“Yes.”

“Good, get her in the room.”

Arya was still unconscious when they did the next steps in her transformation. They stripped her and on her right shoulder blade they branded her with the words _Valar Morghulis and Valar Dohearis._ Then they took her left arm and tattooed a dragon, a bull, and a wolf on it. All in black and grey. Each piece was rather large, the bull was on the back of her forearm, while the wolf was on her inner forearm, and the dragon wrapped around her outer bicep.

“She’ll come to know in time, the story these will tell.”

“Why is she here?” The waif asked, “She’s just a simple girl from Westeros.”

“Her father is the second most powerful man there.”

“So, this is all part of an elaborate political scheme, kidnap the real Arya Stark and then what? They’re going to figure it out Jaqen.”

“No, they won’t,” he answered, “She was heartbroken, and what do heartbroken people do?”

“What Jaqen?”

“They disappear.”

It had been a week since she was taken to the House of Black and White and she had just woken up. Her body was in terrible pain and she couldn’t remember a thing. She ran her hands through her hair and was shocked to feel how short it was. She immediately jolted up and ran to the mirror. What had happened to her? Her hair was purple, fucking purple. Her nose was pierced, she had giant tattoos on her arms that weren’t there before.

“Ahhhhhh,” she screamed.

 

 

“Ned,” Catelyn said over her morning coffee, “I’m worried about Arya.”

“Why’s that dear?”

“It’s been three-weeks and she hasn’t called once, she promised me she’d call every day.”

“I’m sure she’s just busy with classes and getting settled. Maybe we should call her tonight.”

“Ned,” Catelyn had tears in her eyes, “I’ve tried every day and her phone has been disconnected. Robb, Jon, and Sansa have all tried to contact her with their socials and all of Arya’s are gone. It’s like she’s disappeared. I’m worried, Ned. I’m really worried.”

Ned dropped his own coffee cup on the ground, “I need to talk to Robert.”

“You want to talk to Robert, now?” She roared. “Our daughter is missing.”

“The school hasn’t sent us anything indicating she isn’t going to her classes.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about.”

“Catelyn,” he gently said, “Robert and I are working an infiltrating a crime circle.”

“You never told me that.”

“It’s one in Braavos.”

“Ned!” She screamed, “You let our daughter go to Braavos when you knew full-well that it wasn’t safe.”

“They target business-men and rapists. It’s not the most noble thing, but it had nothing to do with Arya.”

“It has everything to do with her, they probably took her.”

“Don’t be so obtuse Catelyn.”

“Get out,” she growled, “Get out of my sight. Do not talk to me until you’ve located my daughter.”

Ned sighed before getting up to leave the kitchen he said, “She’s my daughter too and I love her dearly. If anything’s happened to her, you know I will start a war to get her back.”

 

Three months had passed since Arya had joined the House of Black and White. She was known only as Mercy and was told nothing of her past. She remembered she was from Westeros but every day she remembered less and less.

“Good morning Mercy,” Jaqen said.

He was intoxicating, his voice sent shivers down her spine.

As she turned to greet him, the covers of the bed rolled down exposing her breast.

“Morning,” she kissed him.

Fucking Jaqen had been the best thing since coming here. He had been her first and he had taken full advantage of that fact. He was proud to have deflowered her, but some yearning in her told her that the task was meant for someone else, but she couldn’t remember who. The training was difficult, more difficult than any fencing training she had been in. They beat her with sticks and even blinded her at one point, believing it was all to connect her to the Many-Faced God. She had yet to be given a mission, but she felt like she was ready.

“When can I go out on the field?” She asked.

“Soon, little-wolf.”

She didn’t understand the nickname of ‘Little-wolf’ maybe it had to do with her tattoo. She had adorned her body with a few more since she arrived here. Mainly quotes and a few small flowers, nothing serious. She liked them, they were self-expression. She had also taken to changing her hair, dying it blue this time and shaving the underneath section.

“I have to go,” he pushed himself off of her, earning a low whimper from her, “Council meeting.”

“Don’t go,” she whined.

“I have to,” he kissed her softly, “I’ll be around to train you in an hour.”

“Promise.”

He winked at her and left the room.

The halls were quiet at this hour just as Jaqen preferred.

“How is she?” The eldest master asked, as Jaqen sat down in the council room.”

“Doing better every day.”

“Will she be ready to kill the false dragon?”

“I believe so, in a few months’ time.”

“We don’t have that long,” another master added, “He’s already gathering shares in Mereen, Lys, and Tyros. Not to mention, our plan of pitting him and his aunt against each other has failed miserably.”

“She will be ready when the time comes,” Jaqen answered, “And what of her family, have we warded off any suspicions.”

“A look-alike has taken her place at University and she has taken to texting her parents. Their worries seem to be null and void. But I wouldn’t say we’re in the complete clear.”

“I see,” Jaqen said.

“Time is running out,” the Kindly man warned, “If she is not ready in three-month’s time as you request, you know the consequences.”

“Yes,” Jaqen grimaced, “Permanent memory loss and blindness. I know.”

“See to it that you train her, you may go now.”

 

Three months later and Mercy was completely ready for her first mission. She fought perfectly, besting Jaqen and the Waif most of the time. Her hearing and sight were impeccable, as she could see things and hear them from miles away. She had mastered different tongues, such as Valyrian, Braavosi, Lyoshi, and Dothraki. She had become a seductress as well. She was ready to kill the false dragon.

“You know your mission?” Jaqen asked.

“Yes,” she grinned back, pulling him into her embrace, her body was shivering with anticipation for his cock to glide inside of her.

“What is it?” He asked, peppering her neck with kisses and running his hands through her, now pink hair. The shaved part had grown back a bit, but it was still significantly shorter than the hair that reached mid-way down her neck.

“Go to Mereen, find the false dragon, and give him the gift.”

“And if you fail?” He asked as he penetrated her.

“I won’t fail.”

“Who are you?”

“No one.” Any and all traces of her last life had been completely forgotten. She was Mercy, she was Beth, she was Nan, anyone she wanted to be. But most of all she was Jaqen’s and the sooner she got done with this mission, the sooner she could be free and be with him. He had promised.

The trip to Mereen was only a few hours via train. Instead of donning her usual simple robes that were provided at the House of Black and White, she took up a more alternative persona. She wore dark, ripped jeans with doc martins and a black cropped tank-top showing off her toned abs and different tattoos. She wore a sweater to cover her ribs as they showed many of her scars from fighting and most importantly she needed to cover her brand. That was the number one-rule in the House, no one is to see it.

It wasn’t hard to find Griff Connington, or Aegon Targaryen as he was really named. He was a bassist in a band called “The Shy Maiden” and he was performing at a gig tonight.

No One did her makeup intensely, opting for dark eyeshadow and winged eyeliner. She wore a black band t-shirt tied up to show her stomach and a leather skirt, accompanied, of course, with her black Doc Martins.

“Does he play here often?” She asked the bartender after ordering a gin and tonic with her fake id.

“Almost weekly, Cat,” he smiled, she could tell he was flirting with her.

“Does he ever let anyone back stage, I mean, I’m a fellow musician myself,” she said pointing to the tattoo of a guitar on her arm.

“You play?”

“Sort of just said that, didn’t I?” Cat teased.

“They need a new guitarist, I can see what I can do.”

A few minutes later the bartender came back, “Name’s Duck,” he smiled, “And yes, Griff is curious to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiled, grabbing his hand to shake it.

She followed the tall red-headed man backstage, with a new gin and tonic in hand.

“Oi, Griff,” he called, “Here’s the little lady.”

“I’m not a lady,” she snapped, _“Why does being called a lady bother me so?”_

“Too much of a spitfire to be a lady,” the man with blue-hair laughed, “I’m Griff,” He held out his hand.

She took it and shook it with confidence, “Cat.”

“I hear you play.”

“You hear correctly.”

“Care to show me what you got? Our last guitarist broke his hand in a boating accident so he’s out of commission for a few months. This would only be temporary if that’s okay with you.”

“Hand me a guitar.”

He threw it to her and she caught it with one hand, carefully she put the strap around her shoulder and began to play. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had actually played the guitar, it must’ve been before she made it to the House of Black and White but for some reason the skill never left her.

“Damn,” Griff smiled, “You are really good.”

“Do I have the gig?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Drinks on me to celebrate.”

“Griff,” an older man interrupted, “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Cat looked at him with anticipation as she was practically gripping Duck’s arm to bring her back to the bar, “I’ll be just a few minutes, he said.”

“Okay.”

“Jon, what is it?”

“I don’t trust her.”

“She’s a harmless girl.”

“Don’t underestimate women, you’ve seen what your aunt has done.”

“We’ve made those changes together. Come on, I’ll have to do the politics thing soon and I just want a few more months of being Griff.”

“She’s dangerous,” Jon warned, “She reminds me so much of,” he cut himself off.

“Of who?”

The old man pressed his fingers into his forehead, “Lyanna Stark. That nose is a Stark nose if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I think I would know a Stark if I saw one,” Griff groaned.

“The youngest girl has been missing for quite some time,” Jon explained, “There’s a decoy at her school, but those in the inner circle know it isn’t her. Only her family is still in the dark, someone smart stole her and they know the political scheme inside and out. They know the dangers of Ned Stark finding out his precious daughter is missing.”

“And you think Cat, Cat with pink hair and tattoos up and down her arms and the complete opposite of a Westerosi accent is Arya Stark, the girl who you say is missing but isn’t really missing.”

“Something has happened to that girl.”

“Jon,” Griff sighed, “I know you’re only looking out for me, but who I choose to hang around with shouldn’t be your main concern. She’s just a guitarist, nothing more.”

That turned out to be a complete and total lie. As the two of them grew closer through their many band practices, Griff and Cat started to see each other outside of the band, more particularly at each other’s houses.

“How come you always get to be on the bottom?” He asked, as he nibbled her ear.

“Painful cut on my back, wouldn’t want you to see it.”

Cat had hated herself, she had fallen for Griff and his charm. They had been secretly seeing each other for two-months and she knew she had her mission to follow. But, something in her, something felt like it wasn’t right. What was their reason for wanting to kill him? She knew he was Aegon Targaryen, but that in itself wasn’t a reason to want him dead, was it?

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Before she could protest, he took her and spun her around, revealing her bran in its entirety. She held her breath and he did the same.

“Jon was right,” he said softly, “Your name isn’t Cat.”

“Yes, it is,” she responded.

“You’re a part of that cult,” he said, “The one that kills political leaders and business men and rapists.”

“Especially the rapists,” she quipped.

“And you’re here to kill me.” The words left his lips laced in shock and despair, “I thought you loved me.”

She hesitated, “I do love you, which is why I haven’t killed you.”

“But you’re supposed to.”

“Yes.”

“Is your name really Cat?”

“No.”

“Is it Arya Stark?”

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe as memoires of an old life started to flood in. A family of five siblings, two loving parents, six giant huskies, and one insufferable bull.

Her lip quivered, “I think so, but I don’t know.”

He ran his fingers through her bob-length hair, all of it had grown out at this point and was dyed a terrible green color, he had laughed at her when she did it.

“Are you going to kill me?” He asked again.

“No,” she said, “No I’m not.”

“What will they do to you, if you don’t?”

“Probably kill me or torture me, I don’t know.”

“I love you,” he kissed her, “Don’t give up your life for mine.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Griff.”

“You know my name is Aegon,” he cut her off, “Call me Aegon and I’ll call you Arya.”

“I don’t know if I’m Arya.”

“I’m quite certain you are,” he laughed, “I’ve been told you have the Stark nose.”

“Hold me,” she demanded, and he took her naked form in his arms and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m going to figure out a plan,” he gently caressed her shoulders, “We’re going to go somewhere, somewhere safe where no one can hurt us. And then we’ll get you home to your family, I promise.”

 

A year later and Arya and Aegon were living together in Asshai as a married couple. It had been a spur of the moment, drunk decision made two months ago. She had stopped dying her hair, but kept it around her collar bones. She had also lasered off a few of her tattoos, but kept the bull, dragon, and wolf on her arm. She still couldn’t remember much of her old life, but she knew she was from Winterfell and that her family was the Starks. It pained her not to contact them, but doing so would put them in danger and she couldn’t risk that.

“Moring,” he grinned, “How’re you feeling?”

“Never better,” she smiled as she kissed him.

Aegon had explained the situation to Dany, his aunt, she understood his need to go undercover for a little while longer and told him when he wanted to be a part of the politics he was more than welcome too. She had no sights for Westeros, as it was being peacefully ruled by its President Robert Baratheon, but she had aims to establish business connections there once again. She was the Mayor of Mereen and was up for election of Empress of Essos, a highly prestigious position. Aegon would have been her co-emperor, but he declined and Dany offered him a spot on her council if he ever felt obliged to.

“What size is it today?” He asked.

“It’s the size of a grapefruit, according to this very scientism app,” she laughed.

She was about five-months pregnant now and couldn’t be happier. Although she was barely 21 years old, she felt like she was ready for this.

“I love you,” he told her as he kissed her goodbye, “I’m running to get some things printed for the band and then I’ll meet you for lunch later.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She met Aegon for lunch at a local diner, but somehow things felt wrong. She was constantly looking over her shoulder.

 _“He should be here by now,_ ” she thought.

“Hello, Arya,” a familiar voice said as she looked up from her menu to be greeted by the Waif, “I see you’ve failed your mission, luckily, I’ve just completed it.”

She handed Arya her phone, showing her a picture of her dead husband. He had been stabbed multiple times in the gut and one final one in the heart.

“His final words were how much he loved you and your baby, luckily you’ll see each other very soon.”

Arya dashed out of the restaurant like a bat out of hell, but wasn’t quick enough. The Waif stabbed her three times in her abdomen, Arya was left there shaking.

“Any last words Stark?”

Suddenly Arya heard a gun go off and the Waif had fallen into her arms, the bullet hit her square in the forehead.

“Jaqen?” She muttered.

“The task is done.”

“What is this? Why, why did you want him dead.”

“That is for us to know, not you, now let’s get you to the hospital.”

“No,” she growled, “No, I want the truth and I want it now.”

“Money,” is all he said, “It’s always been about money.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because, I was never a member of the House of Black and White, I’m an FBI agent. Working with King Robert to destroy it from the inside. You were never meant to get hurt, you were never meant to even join, but the Waif is evil. She lured you in and drugged you. I tried to keep you as safe as I could.”

“Does my family know where I am?”

“No,” he responded, “They think you’re still at school.”

“Jaqen,” her voice was weak, “Don’t let my baby die.”

“I won’t, little wolf, I won’t.”

 

Arya had been in the hospital for three-months recovering from her stab wounds and she was being closely monitored by the doctors. Luckily, the Waif, had terrible aim and missed the baby entirely.

Jaqen had explained to her that it was still too dangerous to let her see her family, as the House of Black and White was not completely disbanded. She understood his point, but was still eager to talk to and finally see her family again. It had been over two years. She cried herself to sleep the night he told her, it’d be the third Christmas she had missed.

Her daughter arrived on a stormy night, Jaqen and Daenerys both held her hands as she labored for thirty-hours.

“You got this, Arya,” Dany smiled, she had never met his aunt before today, but she couldn’t be more grateful the woman was here for her.

“She’s beautiful,” Jaqen announced kissing her forehead.

“Visenya,” she muttered before passing out.

 

Two months later and Arya was cleared to fly back to Westeros, so she did with her daughter in hand and a few more scars than she left with.

Jaqen had arranged for her to have a flight to Winterfell and had a car to drive her up to her family’s manor.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, “What if they don’t accept me? What if they don’t accept her?”

“Your family loves you, Arya. As do I.”

“You know, I can’t be with you.”

“I can’t be with you either,” he kissed her softly on the forehead, “I love you in the way I want to keep you safe. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you by living my life right and fighting injustice. I should have done more for you. I could have saved your husband, and for leaving you a widow and her fatherless, I am terribly sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she softly responded, “We cannot prevent what we can’t predict.”

“You’re going to be okay, Arya Stark.”

“Arya Targaryen,” she corrected, “Arya Targaryen will be okay.”

It was ironic that today was Christmas eve and Arya Targaryen had finally made it home. The manor looked exactly the same, but her feet felt like cinderblocks.

“Are you looking for the Starks?” A man with a deep voice asked.

“I’m fine,” she responded, “Thank you.”

“You sure, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, I’m fine.” She held her daughter tight to her chest, unsure if he could see her or not.

“Have a goodnight?”

“Gendry,” he answered coming into the light, “Gendry Waters. I’ll see you later miss, have to do some work for Robb before the party begins. Enjoy yourself.”

The name rang a bell to her, but she didn’t press it.

She finally gathered the courage to ring the doorbell and a woman with long red hair answered.

Her mouth flew open, “Arya,” she screamed.

Gendry heard Catelyn Stark’s scream and did a double take; the woman hadn’t looked like Arya at all. Her hair was shorter, reaching her shoulders, she had bangs and a nose piercing, and a wedding ring on her finger. That wasn’t Arya Stark, it couldn’t be.

“You never said you were coming home for Chrimsas.”

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?” She asked.

“What happened to you?”

“It’s a long story. Can we come in?”

“We?”

Arya gestured towards her chest, where she held a small infant girl.

“Holy shit, is that Arya?” Robb asked

“I think it is,” Jon answered.

Arya smiled before being crushed in a hug by her two older brothers, “Careful,” she yelled, “Don’t crush her!”

“Crush who?” Jon asked.

“My daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” Ned asked, shock lining his features, “What has happened to you little wolf?”

“Meet Visenya Targaryen.” She showed her entire family her daughter, whose platinum blonde hair was slightly poking out of her beanie.

“Targaryen?” Snasa asked, “So, you left and shacked up with a Targaryen and now you’re here?”

“It’s a much more complicated story than that,” Arya answered, “But yes, if you call being married to him being ‘shacked up’ then yes I was ‘shacked up with a Targaryen.”

“Arya,” Bran, her younger brother asked, “Why did you get married and have a baby and you didn’t tell us?”

“I wanted to Bran, I truly did, but I had been kidnapped by the House of Black and White and I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t even remember who you all were until about a year ago. It was so hard to not talk to you.” She couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes.

Catelyn smacked her husband right then and there, “I told you, I told you something was wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Cat,” he pulled his wife into an embrace, “I’m so, so sorry.” He looked to Arya, “I’m sorry, can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course, I can,” she smiled, “They did torture me a bit,” everyone grimaced at how casually she said that, “Got a brand on my back but I was passed out for that and my roommate did try to stab me.”

“Arya,” Sansa yelled in shock.

“But if this wouldn’t have happened, I wouldn’t have been married to Aegon and I wouldn’t have had her. It’s been worth it.”

The doorbell rings, “Fuck I forgot about the party,” Robb said. They had all been standing in the foyer for an hour now, reveling in Arya’s return and her subsequent story.

“My timing wasn’t the best,” Arya admitted, “I’d love to attend a Stark Christmas party, but I fear I’m terrible underdressed.”

“Come on,” Sansa smiled, “I’ll find you a dress to wear.”

Sansa pulled Arya upstairs where she found her a black cocktail dress.

“Holy shit Arya,” she yelled, “You never mentioned the tattoos.”

“I woke up with them,” she explained, “Never had the heart to remove them.”

“Why the bull?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

Arya and Sansa made their way downstairs, only to see Robb and Jon fighting over who got to hold Visenya next.

“They’re crazy,” Arya laughed.

“Yeah, they are. So much has changed since you left,” Sansa explained, “Jon’s got a job here, Robb is dating someone, I’m gay.”

“You’re gay?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, “I’ve been dating Margaery for over a year.”

“Good for you, I’m happy for you both.”

“Arya?” The voice sounded familiar to before.

She looked up and she recognized him, his blue eyes were digging deep into her soul, “Gendry,” the words left her lips like a prayer.

“Can we talk?”

Arya looked to Sansa who gave her, her approval.

“Sure.”

He had his hands in his pockets as they walked outside. He handed her his coat as Winterfell was freezing.

“I can’t believe you’re home,” he began.

“It’s been a long journey,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry for what I did.”

She had remembered so little, but as soon as her heard her say her name, the memories of her best friend all flooded back and the kiss they had shared ringed in her head.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I wanted you and you didn’t want me.”

“But I did want you,” he responded, “I knew if I told you that you would have stayed in King’s Landing and that wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

“You wanted me?”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “More than anything.” And then he kissed her.

“Gendry,” she pushed him away.

“I know about your daughter, I saw her earlier. If you’re with someone else, then I won’t bother you, but if you aren’t?”

“Her father,” she explained, “He was my husband but he was murdered.”

“I’m so, sorry, Arya, I had no idea.”

“It’s okay.”

“What happened to you in Essos?”

“Can I tell you over coffee tomorrow? As a date?”

“As you wish milady.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!


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